


Snake

by korik



Series: Misery Mine [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Dysfunctional Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2193870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korik/pseuds/korik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is uneasy beneath his feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snake

"Sparingly idiotic, are you?"

He is tugged from his reverie in the gardens, alive and implanted temporarily, allowed for a time to share the area between flowering plants and long hung trees that hissed and hummed with the chill of air. His bright eyes turn up, and he feels his own lips tremble. "What say you, lord brother?"

Adelaid, thickly built with carefully manicured hairs across his chin, golden brown eyes, stands near. Heavy boots half crush the carefully tended grass. "The Emperor wants you; to babysit I envision."

Brushing aside the callous greeting (surely he cannot mean it), Vayne feels delight, and scrambles to his feet. "Larsa? I would be most honored." He continues, trying to speak loud to catch his brother's back that is fading away as he strides back to the safety of the manor, "T-tell the Lord Emperor I will attend my brother shortly."

Adelaid is gone.

The young man feels a strange sense of abandonment, of loss. How does he convey, speak his feelings to a family he barely knows? Who is friendly one moment, the next tyrannical and imperious.

It can only be temporary.

His brother can only be teaching him the ways of this world, that as he is now he is unwanted, incapable of comprehension for the tasks he must accomplish.

To his father he poses this question upon reporting to him as asked, cradling the young Larsa in his arms which have never before been so pleased to carry a weight: "Father, forgive me if I speak in youthful haste, but what is my purpose here?" He tries to sound subservient, and not beg for some other reason here than to be prodded and poked as easily as he is guided. He is aware of the laughter of the other Houses, the whispers and heads that turn upon his entrance to the scant celebrations thrown to celebrate his return as though he had not been neatly packaged aside to in turn be disposed of when no one else looked for him.

The lord Gramis, with his graying hair and slowly sagging features, looks up. Vayne sees exhaustion in his eyes, decaying pride in the noble strength of his jaw. "We must all do what is necessary, my son, to ensure House Solidor, ensure the Empire and her people have what is best."

He repeats it slowly to his lord, trying to ensure he has the right of it, "I am here to provide home and country with my service...?"

The older man smiles, and Vayne flushes in delight.

" 'Tis so, excellent." A bit of paper is scratched upon by the elder Solidor's pen nib, and he continues speaking as Vayne gathers his courage to launch into more questions. "Now, to your duty."

Vayne bows carefully, thoughts and tongue stammered, and excuses his brother and himself. He cannot help but cast a glance back at his father again As he exits, shifting to take Larsa's delicate fingers from his tiny mouth, chiding him gently.

He looks tired and small, ungainly even, beneath the tapestry of House Solidor. There are things that do not match up, stories and people he cannot place here.

What is the purpose of war to the Empire if the Empire is secure? Why did so many die in the monastery who were soldiers, abandoned by their leaders, was it, for necessity? 

He realizes again he is afraid of these lengthy halls, like great yawning mouths with colorful, flaming tongues that hung above his head. The serpents upon the banner, writhing and tangling themselves into the world, feasting upon the flesh of one another in a never-ending dance.


End file.
